Don't you turn your back on me
by alwayswriting
Summary: “the more you run away from me, the closer I draw near…”


Don't you turn your back on me—guano apes

Boy you're killing me  
with your funny smile  
my heart is beating loud as hell  
I'm diving in your eyes

My whole life is upside and down  
when you're chasing down my skin  
the more I run away from you  
the closer you draw near

Take me to the edge of feeling  
heart against my skin  
show me places I have longed for  
in sanctity and sin

Locked intense inside my head  
your touch will set me free  
I hold on til the sun comes up  
if you'll be there for me

I wonder if you let me down (4x)

Don't you turn your back on me  
take a look at where you wanna be  
Don't be scared of what you see  
the only thing that's killing you is me

Now you're leaving me  
with your angry eyes  
my love gets lost with you  
I was saving you last night

locked intense inside my head  
your trust will set us free  
the more you run away from me  
the closer I draw near

I wonder... _(4x)_

Don't you...

don't you turn your back on me

"the more you run away from me

the closer I draw near…"

"You kissed Jack." He stares at you. Studies you. Then, turns his back and says, "Don't make no difference, Freckles. Not like we're going steady or anything."

But you don't believe him. You saw that flicker of hurt on his face. And he has his back towards you. That all means something.

"Sawyer—"

But, he cuts you off with a wave of his hand. "Hey, I gotta go and check in on Mike. I'll see you later." He doesn't turn back to look at you before he leaves.

You sit back down on the large rock with your hands on your knees. Why'd you have to tell Sawyer about that kiss with Jack? It just came out. Sawyer was talking about you—you and him—together. It scared you. The last time anyone made you feel this way, he died, so you never got the chance to tell him the truth. About anything.

So, when Sawyer starting talking, when his voice dropped and he was practically whispering in your ear, using the words "you" and "me" and "us;" it made you want to tell him the truth. Just so you could get rid of the knot in your stomach.

"I kissed Jack," you told him.

And he walked away from you.

You don't look for him the rest of the day, but somehow he finds you. You're sitting alone in a chair inside the hatch. There's no one else there except for Locke who's in charge of punching in the numbers this round.

"Hey," Sawyer says.

You drop your feet from under your lap to the ground. "Hey."

"I made too much stew." He glances behind his shoulder. "I got the pot up there. You wanna join me?"

"Sure," you say with a small smile.

You follow him up above ground and into the jungle. He already has two bowls waiting near a fire. It's a nice romantic candlelit dinner.

You sit down on a log and he takes the seat beside you handing you a bowl and a spoon. You eat in silence for a moment.

Then:

"Don't tell me he was a better kisser." Sawyer shakes his head. "Now that will break my heart."

Your eyes narrow. Here you thought you had hurt him and he was more worried about who kissed better.

"I wasn't thinking when I kissed him," you say.

He smiles smugly at you. "And when you kissed me?"

"I was definitely not thinking then."

He chuckles. "That don't mean you regret it, eh?" When you don't reply, he smiles again. "I thought so."

"How many girls have you kissed, Sawyer?" You want to turn the tables on him, give him a taste of his own medicine.

He remains cool under pressure. "Too many to count, sweetheart."

"None of them meant anything to you?"

"Well, none of them have taken my breath away." He looks right into your eyes. "Not like you."

You lower your head and the bowl in your hands. "Gimme a break, Sawyer."

"I'm serious, Freckles. Who taught you how to kiss anyway?"

Your gaze falls on the flames. "His name was Tom."

"Tom." He says the name, weighing it on his tongue. "Who was he? Your first boyfriend?"

And somehow he has managed to turn the tables back to you.

"I gotta go." You stand up. The knot's struggling to return to your stomach. "I gotta go."

"Then, go," he says. There's a hint of coldness laced in this voice.

You do.

You can't sleep, so, you find yourself walking back to the same place you had left. The fire is still going. Sawyer's huddled in a blanket next to it. You don't want to wake him so you just watch him sleep. You want to sleep, too. As you start to turn away from him, you hear, "No…no…mama…"

Sawyer's shaking and clutching his blanket. You've seen him like this before. You've pulled him out of this before.

You lean over him and shake his shoulder. "Sawyer…"

He jolts awake, grabbing your hands. His eyes are wide with no trace of sleep in them. "You—what are you doing here?"

"I came back…" and that's all you can say.

He lets go of your hands and sits up. Beads of sweat have collected on his forehead. You want to wipe them away with your fingers.

"You were dreaming," you say.

"I was?"

"How bad was it?" you ask carefully.

He avoids your question just like you had earlier.

"I'll leave you alone." You start back towards the jungle.

"Kate…"

And you stop. You want him to ask you to stay.

But he just turns his head away.

In the morning, you watch the sun come up over the horizon. You plant your feet in the sand and watch the waves from the ocean move in and out. In a distance, you can hear the sounds of the other survivors. But none of them are his.

You never did find sleep last night, and a part of you knows that Sawyer never found it again last night either.

"What you doing out here?"

You recognize his voice without even turning to look at him.

Sawyer comes to your side and looks out to the water with you. "You waiting for something?"

You.

But, you don't say it. Can't.

You look down at what he's holding. "What are the scissors for?"

"Oh, this?" He holds them up. "Figured it was time for that haircut you've been on my ass about."

"Are you asking me to cut your hair?" you ask.

He shrugs. "Why not?"

"You're not afraid I'll cut off your ear or something?"

"Hell, I've been through worse. Besides, it'd be like a test for the both of us."

"What kind of test?"

He extends the pair of scissors to you. "If we can trust each other."

You think about his offer and decide to take the scissors from him. He lets his hand linger over yours.

"You think you can handle it?" And he's speaking that way again. Whispering. Unraveling that knot in your stomach.

You look into those blue-gray eyes and say, "Yeah, I think we can."

THE END


End file.
